


Starcrossed & Stranded

by Saraste



Series: Starcrossed [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash, Femslash Friday, Girls in Love, GoT/HP fusion, Romance, Running away from home, Starcrossed Runaways, sansaery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They have now taken the ultimate leap in their desperation to stay together after Margaery's graduation from Hogwarts: run away from home. Now, stranded in a park in Muggle London, the doubts start to seep in at the most inoppotune moment. But Margaery has an unexpected solution to all their dilemmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starcrossed & Stranded

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. This is a continuation of the silly/tragic sansary starcrossed lovers saga I started during Femslash February. Sorry I took three months to post it.
> 
> (working note, to be removed: I'm adding the femslash february era fics in this verse into the Starcrossed series, bear with me.)

 

'What are we doing?' Sansa finally asks, all too late for it to mean anything, to make any sort of difference.

 

For the damage has already been done, they have already been all too reckless, possibly smashing all their chances of being together to smithereens. Had it been anyone but Margaery, Sansa wouldn't have gone. But Margaery is Margaery is Margaery, and Sansa will always give her everything she asks for. She still can't quite believe that a mere hour ago she'd been crying her eyes out over Margaery, thinking they'd possibly never see each other again and yet here they are now, together.

 

Sansa would give Margaery her still beating heart from her own chest should Margaery ask her for it. Running away with her isn't so very drastic, all things considered. Except when it is. For they are who they are.

 

'We're running away because we're a Stark and a Tyrell.' Margaery squeezes Sansa's hand in her own, eyes intent on hers.

 

And lo, Margaery has named the truth which they have both always known but have never put to words. They _are_ a Stark and Tyrell. And it should have been enough for Margaery never to have come  and talk to Sansa in the first place, enough for them to never have kissed, touched… _fallen in love._

 

Yet they have done all those things with wild abandon, not caring about what others may think.

 

Sansa shivers, leaning against Margaery and clutching her satchel to her. It's both too heavy and weightless, for it weighs nothing when weighed against what Sansa has done, even when it has what might become all her private possessions in it, should things go very very not their way.

 

Margaery is still dressed in her school robes, Sansa's scarf around her neck despite the  early  summer heat of the City, having only a shoulder bag on her. Her pretty eyes are wild, hunted, and the  indecision on her face makes Sansa worry.

 

They're sitting on a bench in a park somewhere in Muggle London, Margaery having _Apparated_ them there. She doesn't say where she knew it from, what memories are attached to it for her to use it as a focal point for landing, Sansa didn't ask. Margaery's appearance draws some not-so-subtle glances but nobody has said anything about how they're holding hands. (Not that Sansa looks, much, she feels really out of place among so many Muggles, not having met so many of them during her somewhat sheltered life, despite Starks not being all-Wizards-all-the-time.)

 

N o-one here cares, or knows, that they're a Stark and a Tyrell on the run. The thought is wonderfully liberating.  Uplifting.

 

'We always knew that,' Sansa says, finally.  She fidgets a little, even while she feels comfortable. She feels out of place in this setting, for, while her family isn't Pureblood in the bad mad near-psychotic way, they've lived much like other Wizards, amongst their own.  'Is your family?…' she cannot quite finish her thought. It's something they've never talked about. 

 

Margaery looks away, seemingly somewhere far away, her brow creasing. '… not all of them,' she admits, finally.

 

Sansa squeezes her hand in hers. She's beginning to dread what she's done, the lengths Margaery can make her go.

 

'My mother will be so very mad,' Sansa says in a small voice. She's suddenly aching for everything she's left behind. Yet a thrill runs though her all the same. The thrill of freedom and of being with the person she loves, whom she adores fully and completely.  This is more significant than becoming Margaery's girlfriend, she feels like she's committed fully, now, like there is no going back.

 

Well, there  _is_ no going back to the way things were, before she ran away from home. 

 

*

 

Margaery sighs. 'I'm sorry to have dragged you into this. Fuck…'

 

She leans back, looking up at the sky, anchored to the ground by her hold on Sansa. She had no idea what the fuck she had thought she'd been thinking when she's cajoled Sansa to run away with her. She hasn't been thinking much of anything.  She had been thinking of never seeing Sansa again, not wanting to go home where she had known her mother and grandmother were already planning for her to date and marry any of a handful of candidates, boys  _and_ girls. 

 

_And none of them would have been Sansa Stark._

 

Running had been the only option,  _Apparating_ mid-stride just as she'd emerged into Muggle London through the barrier at the train station. She still doesn't quite know how she managed to appear in Winterfell, right by Sansa, but thinks it's a mystery she doesn't mind not solving.

 

Sansa's hand in hers is a lifeline, a tether to the here and now, where Margaery has wrenched her girlfriend away from all she's known, from a life that was most likely not that bad, but which would probably not have had Margaery in it, now she'd graduated.

 

She's been incredibly selfish in regards to the girl by her side but cannot feel remorse for it, if only because Sansa clings to her so, if only because of the tear-stained smile and relieved kisses Sansa greeted her with at Winterfell, because of the photo clutched in Sansa's hand of Margaery dancing and singing 'I love Sansa Stark!' in a wintry Hogwarts courtyard.

 

'What will we do now, where'll we go?' Sansa asks, after a while.

 

Margaery sits, closes her eyes and listens to the hum of the city of Muggles around them, for they are far from Magical London, the London most think is the only one her family knows. She tries to think past the adrenaline rush of her initial freak-out, her running to Sansa, to rationalize, to plan and plot in the way Sansa expects of her. The way Sansa needs of her now.

 

'Teddy,' she finally says.

 

She looks at Sansa, whose face is stunned. 'Teddy?' She shouldn't need to ask, as they all went to Hogwarts at the same time. Yet Margaery owes an answer.

 

She does so succinctly.

 

'Teddy Lupin.'


End file.
